The Tired Soldier/The Tired Soldier

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Fleuron from 'The Tired Soldier', a chapbook printed in Greenock
Fleuron from 'The Tired Soldier', a chapbook printed in Greenock

THE TIRED SOLDIER.

Divider from 'The Tired Soldier', a chapbook printed in Greenock
Divider from 'The Tired Soldier', a chapbook printed in Greenock
The tired soldier, bold and brave,Now rests his wearied feet,And to the shelter of the graveHas made a safe retreat.To him the trumpet's piercing breath,"To arms" shall call in vain;Ned's quarter'd in the arms of Death,He'll never march again.
A boy he left his father's home,The chance of war to try,O'er regions yet untrod to roam,No friend or brother nigh';Yet still he march'd contented on,Meets danger, death, and pain;But now he halts-his toil is done,He'll never march again:
The sweets of Spring, by beauty's hand,Lie scatter'd o'er his bier;His comrades, as they silent stand,Give honest Ned a cheer; ​
And lovely Kate, poor Ned's delight,Chief mourner of the train,Cried, as she view'd the dreadful sight,“He'll never march again!"

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